The Other Side of the Story
by MegaNerdAlert
Summary: The scene is set in an A/U in which Minerva never taught at Hogwarts. Meeting for the first time as adults, she and Minerva hit it off at once. Years later, Hermione is working as an Unspeakable and gets transported to "cannon" reality, and the "cannon" Hermione is thrust unwillingly into the A/U. How will each handle the changes; both there, and when they get home? M for later.
1. Chapter 1

**Firstly, I apologize for the lack of Wizardry Park updates. I had an odd discussion with my husband about it, and he pointed out a couple plot holes that I need to go back and fix before I go any further. I am working on it, but can't do so while at work, which means my time is limited. I can, however, write spur of the moment oneshots while at work (love my job!), as my eight hour shift usually only involves about three hours of work, giving a good five hours worth of very little to do. And so, I write.**

* * *

Hermione Granger laughed merrily. She was having tea with her mother, recounting some stories from their respective school days, while her father was off for a pint with some of his football buddies. The twenty-four year old witch had just completed her Transfiguration Mastery, and was excited to start her new job as a Professor at Hogwarts this coming September. That said, she had a few more weeks before she needed to move her belongings to the school she loved, and was spending some time with her parents.

Harry and Ginny were on their honeymoon at the moment, or she might have been spending time with them as well. Ron she would see all the time from now on, as he had taken over as Quidditch Coach when Rolanda Hooch had decided to retire last year. Granted, she had needed a mastery, while playing for the Cannons for two seasons had qualified Ron to work at Hogwarts.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. "Wonder who that is..." Jean Granger muttered, getting up to find out. "Be right back, sweetheart."

"I'll be here," Hermione shrugged, smile still on her lips.

"Minerva!" she heard her mum exclaim. "Good gracious, it's good to see you! Come in, come in!"

"Are you certain?" an unfamiliar voice, Scottish by the sounds of it, asked. "I saw another car in the drive...if you already have company, I don't wish to impose."

"Nonsense," Jean huffed. "Just my daughter over for tea. Have you ever met her?"

"No, I do not believe so," the woman called Minerva replied.

"Well come on then," Hermione's mother urged. "In the living room with you. Tea is already on the tray."

A moment later, a tall, ebony haired woman with startlingly green eyes walked into the room, followed by Jean. She seemed to be about forty or so.

"You must be Hermione," the woman said, offering her hand. "Minerva McGonagall."

Hermione took the proffered hand and shook it firmly, curious as to who this woman was. The name Minerva McGonagall rang a bell, but Hermione couldn't place it just then. "Pleased to meet you."

"Minerva owns the company your dad and I get our dental supplies from," Jean explained. "We've been friends for ages. Honestly, I'm surprised you two haven't met before."

"I was away at school after the age of eleven, mum," Hermione reminded her mother.

"Right, and we hadn't met Minerva until, well, it would have been about the same time, I suppose," Jean mused.

"What school did you attend?" Minerva asked politely.

"Well, it's not a very well known school up in Scotland."

Suddenly Minerva blinked, then looked back and forth between Hermione and Jean. "Hogwarts, perchance?" she finally inquired.

Hermione's jaw fell. "How did you know?"

"Having attended there myself..." Minerva replied. "I remember saying the same thing, about it being a little known establishment, to my muggle friends."

Jean gasped. "Well then, are you a witch as well?"

"I am," Minerva admitted.

Jean chuckled. "Well, that certainly explains a lot about you, Minerva. I had no idea."

"You're not supposed to," Minerva smirked. "Though in retrospect, I'm surprised I didn't realize she was your daughter sooner. You usually refer to her as 'Mione', but everyone in the wizarding world knows the name Hermione Granger."

"They do not," Hermione muttered, blushing.

"I'll admit, I have a bit of an inside peek," the dark haired witch confessed. "Filius is a dear friend of mine, and it never fails that when we meet for drinks, the-girl-who-should-have-been-a- Ravenclaw comes up in conversation. He absolutely adores you."

"Filius is still sore about that," Hermione laughed, amused. "I'm looking forward to taking the Transfiguration post this fall."

"Filius is your new boss, right Hermione?" Jean asked, trying to follow the conversation. "The short fellow?"

"He's half Goblin, Jean," Minerva explained. "And current deputy Headmaster at Hogwarts, under Albus Dumbledore, who I might add is highly amused that my best friend is a muggle."

"I bet he is," Hermione agreed.

Inside her head, Hermione was mulling over this friend of her mother's, who was a witch, and also friends with Albus and Filius. She imagined that Minerva must be quite powerful, and older than she looked, to be close to both of them. That her mum's best friend was a witch amused Hermione to no end.

"I heard that Harry Potter and Ginerva Weasley recently married," Minerva commented.

"Yes they did," Hermione confirmed. "Harry and Ginny are on their honeymoon as we speak."

"And what of yourself, and Ronald?" the older witch inquired. "Are the two of you..."

"Not a chance in hell!" Jean exclaimed. "Mione's into girls."

"Mum!" Hermione groaned, wishing her mother wouldn't go about announcing her sexual preferences. It was a good thing her mother wasn't a witch, or the whole wizarding world would be aware of her carefully guarded secret.

"Oh, Minerva won't tell on you," Jean huffed. "So far as Ron goes, he's a good guy, but even if Hermione weren't gay, they would never be suited to each other. He's not intelligent enough."

"Ron is plenty smart," Hermione objected.

"Yes, and so are some breeds of dogs," Jean retorted, causing Minerva to laugh out loud.

"That said," Hermione said tersely, "I think I ought to be going. I've still got lesson plans to go over before start of term, and I have to get my belongings moved to Hogwarts in the next couple days."

"Who's helping you move?" Minerva inquired.

"No one," Hermione huffed. "Mum and dad would, of course, but they can't go to Hogwarts, Harry and Ginny are out of town till mid September, and Ron is busy with summer Quidditch Camp. My friends Luna and Neville are out of town...in the Amazon, I think."

"Is that the extent of your social circle?" the older witch asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I don't exactly make friends easily," she replied with a shrug.

"Well," Minerva smiled, "I'm not going to let my best friend's daughter move all by herself. Tell me day, time, and where to meet you and I shall give you a hand."

"Really, you don't have to..."

"I'm glad to do it, Hermione," Minerva insisted.

"Minerva you are a darling," Jean added. "You two would get on so well, besides the point. Minerva's social life is about as exciting as yours, 'Mione. Perhaps you guys can compare notes about how to get a date."

"Jean!" Minerva groaned. "I don't need one."

"I beg to differ."

"I'll meet you here, Saturday, at eight in the morning," Hermione said quietly, now decidedly more interested in this Minerva woman than she had been five minutes ago. She was beautiful, Hermione observed. Probably wouldn't be interested in someone younger, not to mention it was unclear if she was into women, and besides, her mum would flip if something happened between the two of them.

"Sounds good," Minerva agreed.

"Off to plan the education of future Transfiguration students," she said, giving her mum a tight hug. "Minerva, good to meet you, and I'll see you here in a few days."

"I'll have tea waiting," Jean offered.

"Coffee," Hermione and Minerva both said in response.

"Coffee in the mornings, mum," Hermione whispered, beginning to wonder just how much she and Minerva might have in common.

* * *

Saturday arrived and Minerva was off to an early start. She'd Owled Albus and told him about the connection between one of his star students and her own best friend, Jean Granger. It really was a small world. Albus, of course, was tickled that she had finally met Hermione; a young woman who, to Minerva's never ending irritation, Albus had been suggesting she ask on a date for several years now, despite that before three days ago, Minerva had never even met the soon to be Transfiguration Professor.

She knocked on Jean's familiar front door, and a moment later was greeted with Hermione's Cheshire grin, and an offered cup of coffee. "Morning," Hermione greeted, cradling her own cup of steaming coffee. "If you like cream or sugar, you'll have to get it from the kitchen. I always drink it black."

"As do I," Minerva chuckled. "And thank you."

"Hey, you're helping me move," Hermione smiled. "Coffee is the least I can do. Let's join mum in the den, drink a cuppa, and then be off to my place?"

"Sounds good," Minerva agreed as she closed the door behind her and followed Hermione around the corner.

"God, you two are peas in a pod," Jean laughed when the pair of them walked into the room, both holding coffee mugs to their lips and making a beeline toward an old loveseat which Jean only kept because she knew Hermione would have a meltdown if she got rid of it. Hermione had spent hours upon hours on that loveseat, reading. Minerva, for whatever reason, almost always chose that place to sit as well. "You'll be like the aunt she never knew!"

"I'm not awake enough to comment," Minerva muttered. "Check back with me at the bottom the cup."

Jean proceeded to chatter about this and that, while both Minerva and Hermione silently drank their coffee, very seldom offering input to the more or less one sided conversation. By half past the hour, coffee was gone and both witches were more alert.

"Alright, well you two have a fun time," Jean said. "Oh, and Hermione, dear, if your quarters at Hogwarts are bigger than your current flat is, you can take that blasted sofa with you."

"Really? You don't mind?" Hermione asked, delighted at the notion.

"God no," Jean shook her head. "I hate that thing. I only held on to it because you spend most of your summer breaks glued to it. It is decidedly your sofa."

"Thanks mum!" Hermione grinned, offering her mother another hug.

Minerva watched the scene with interest. The couch was really comfy; she'd figured that out years ago. It was plush, and sunk in at all the right places. It was like curling up on a pile of pillows, with just the right about of support so that you could read for hours and hours and not get a stiff back. Bugger, she's miss that couch if Hermione did take it.

"Do I get visitation rights if it comes with you to Hogwarts?" she asked cheekily.

Hermione laughed. "Sure, why not? You come over, we'll have tea and ginger newts, curl up, and read. That right there is my idea of a good time."

"Sounds wonderful."

"Oh, get out of here, you two," Jean muttered, pushing them towards the door.

* * *

Well, it was done. Hermione was moved, favorite couch included, into her new quarters at Hogwarts. In was well into the evening by the time Hermione and Minerva had unpacked everything. The younger witch had told her helper that she could handle the unpacking, but Minerva had insisted on sticking around.

"Ah!" Hermione said, opening one of the last few boxes. "Found it!"

"Found what?" Minerva inquired.

"Rum!" Hermione said proudly. "Want some?"

Minerva shrugged. "Why not?"

"Go wait on the comfy sofa," Hermione ordered. "I'll grab some glasses."

Hermione went into the kitchen area of her new quarters; quarters which, for the record and much to her pleasure, were about three times the size of her old flat. She was refraining from humming, trying desperately not to develop a crush on her mother's best friend. Spending the day with Minerva had been incredible. Hermione had not felt so connected with another human being in her entire life.

Hell, she thought to herself. Maybe I've bypassed crush and fallen straight in love.

Not that any of that mattered. Even though Minerva was here, helping her, and they got along as well as they were, it didn't change the massive age gap between them, nor the question of if Minerva dated women, nor the fact that Minerva was her mum's best friend.

"Here we are," Hermione said, smiling as she plopped next to the older witch on what was now deemed 'their sofa'. She grabbed the rum off the coffee table in front of them, poured two generous glasses, and handed one to Minerva.

"Are you trying to get me drunk, Hermione?" Minerva laughed, eyeing the alcohol.

"Maybe," Hermione teased. "Are you more inclined to play truth or dare before or after copious amounts of liquor?"

Minerva took a large sip before answering. "After."

"Truth or dare, Minerva," the younger witch said, grinning ear to ear.

"Truth." she replied calmly.

"What do you look for in a date?" Hermione boldly asked after taking her own first sip of the rum.

The older witch coughed. "Why are you interested in my personal life?"

Hermione shook her head defiantly, grinning. "Answer the question, or take a dare."

"Fine," Minerva groaned. "Intelligence, mostly. Mutual interests. The desire to be active in both the wizarding and muggle communities. I'd prefer her to be a witch versus muggle though…"

"Her, huh?" Hermione said slyly. "I knew it!"

"What, that was just to get me to confess to being gay?" Minerva frowned. "You could have just asked."

"I did ask," the younger witch smiled. "Now, your turn."

"Ah, so that was simply your opening to get me to play this silly game, and eventually you'll be poking into my darkest secrets, and daring me to do unimaginable things?" Minerva inquired teasingly.

"Got me."

"Truth or dare, Hermione?" the older woman asked.

"Truth."

Minerva sat up, and leaned toward Hermione on the sofa. "Would your mum kill me if I kissed you?"

Hermione's jaw dropped. Apparently she wasn't the only one feeling the chemistry between them. "Probably." A gulp of breath later, she pressed on with a whisper. "Truth or dare?"

"Dare," Minerva whispered, leaning closer.

"Kiss me," Hermione said, voice barely audible.

And Minerva did.

* * *

"Well Hermione," Filius said, raising his glass at the Head table. "How do you feel, starting your fifth year of teaching?"

"Old," she chuckled. "Next time I blink, this and another four years will have passed, and you'll be asking how I like starting my tenth year."

"Do you plan to teach forever like I have?" the Charms Professor asked. "What about a wife, children?"

Hermione frowned. Had that question been posed four years prior, she might have said that a wife and children were a part of her future. That, of course, was before she'd met Minerva; the woman who was undoubtedly the love of her life, and nobody knew it. She and Minerva had been so focused on keeping their romance a secret, partly because of how badly they suspected Hermione's parents would react, and partly because Minerva didn't like anyone but close friends to know she was even gay. "Perhaps," she said noncommittally. She should really have a talk with her older lover about what the future held for them. She loved Minerva more than life itself, but she didn't know how long she could go on with keeping the secret. Her relationship with her parents was on the rocks right now, as it was. She had gotten into a huge fight with them after they kept 'setting her up'. _Not interested in dating_ didn't seem to mean much to her mum.

"Is Minerva coming over this evening?" Albus asked from her other side, twinkle in his eye. Neither Hermione nor Minerva had told Albus they were in a relationship, but both knew he probably assumed so, with how well he knew each of them and how often he caught Minerva leaving the grounds at three in the morning.

"Maybe," Hermione replied. "If she does, will you be joining us for tea?"

Albus nodded. "I may just do that. Do let me know if she does come over."

* * *

Minerva had been on her way to visit Hermione at Hogwarts when Jean had rung and asked her to pop by. Having just arrived at the Granger residence, she took a breath and knocked. For ten years, she'd enjoyed an easy and comfortable friendship with Jean Granger and her husband John, but over the last four years, things had become...different. Minerva didn't come around as often, uncomfortable with the notion that the woman she called a dear friend was the mother of her much younger lover. That said, she was always there for a friend in need.

"Minerva, come in," Jean said quietly, opening the door.

"What's wrong?" Minerva asked at once, seeing evidence that Jean had been crying.

"John was killed in a car accident this morning," the other woman said numbly.

"Oh sweet Merlin," Minerva muttered, pulling Jean into a tight hug. "I am so, so sorry."

Jean returned the hug, and then pulled away and looked her directly in the eye. "I wanted to tell you before I tell Hermione," she said. "Because she will need your support."

"Of course, I'll be there for her. For you ask well, Jean," Minerva promised.

"But not in the same way," Jean softly accused.

"Excuse me?" the green eyed witch said to her friend.

"Am I wrong, Minerva?" the other woman asked. "I'll remind you that my daughter did not get her brains from her father."

"How long have you known?" Minerva finally asked with a sigh.

"About a month," came the reply. "Since you two were over for dinner last, and vanished up to her old room for nearly an hour. I came up to check on you about half hour in and...heard you."

Minerva winced. "Right. That."

"I'm fairly sure that wasn't the first time, Minerva," Jean voiced tensely, "So do you want to tell me how long you've been screwing my daughter?"

"That really is between Hermione and I," the elder of the two women stated firmly.

"She is my daughter!" Jean shouted, shoving Minerva hard. "I trusted you!"

"I love her, Jean!" Minerva shouted back. "So much it bloody hurts!"

"How long, Minerva?" Hermione's mother asked softly, rubbing her eyes, not looking at the other woman.

"I was attracted to her from the day we met," Minerva answered tersely, "and when I helped her move to Hogwarts, well, a game a truth or dare and a bottle of rum brought light that the attraction was mutual."

"Four years!" Jean exclaimed.

Ah, back to shouting. Minerva let out an exasperated sigh. "We haven't told anyone, Jean. We weren't just keeping it from you. In the wizarding world, we worried that our relationship would cause some waves we weren't prepared to deal with. So far as keeping it from you and John, we were both worried you would react badly. Obviously we were right to fear."

"I am really bloody pissed," Jean grumbled. "But, Hermione is an adult, and I cannot tell her what she can and cannot do. 'Mione and her father, as I'm sure you know, are... were very close. She will need all the support she can get in the coming weeks. Until she gets through it, I expect you to keep this conversation between you and I. Once we are all in a better state of mind, the three of us will be having a very serious chat."

"Fine," Minerva agreed, grateful that the better part of the lecturing was put off, for now. "Do you wish to tell her, or shall I? I was about to go to Hogwarts to see her when you rang."

"I'm going to ring her now and ask her to join us," Jean stated. "I just wanted to talk to you first."

"As you wish," came a terse reply.

* * *

After receiving a phone call from her mum, Hermione had reported to Albus that she was headed out of the castle and headed to her childhood home. When she knocked, she was surprised to see Minerva answer the door.

"Hey!" she said cheerfully.

"Come inside, Hermione," Minerva said quietly. "Your mother has something to tell you."

Her grin faltered. "What is it?" she asked.

"It's your father," she heard her mother say.

Hermione turned to see Jean Granger leaning on the doorframe between the kitchen and living room, looking decidedly upset.

"W-what's happened, mum?" Hermione stuttered, grabbing Minerva for support, suddenly realizing why her lover was even here.

"Car crash, sweetheart," Jean said quietly. "He died this morning."

"No!" Hermione screamed into Minerva's robes, tears beginning to fall.

Her knees began to buckle, and Minerva held her tightly, guiding her toward the living room couch. "Sit, love." the older witch whispered. "I'm here."

"No…" she moaned. He couldn't be dead. He just couldn't. "Daddy…"

* * *

It had been six weeks since Hermione's father, her friend, had been killed on route to work by a drunk driver. The man driving the other car had also been killed, and in that Minerva took some solace. The idea of having to watch Jean and Hermione suffer through a trial to charge the drunken muggle was terrible to consider. They had enough pain to face as it was.

John had been a good man. A dedicated husband and father, and a dentist well loved in the community. He'd had more friends than Minerva had realized, by the amount of people who came to the funeral. The green eyed witch fought back a new wave of tears when she thought about how lucky she'd been to be counted among them.

She found herself wishing that she and Hermione had been honest about their relationship to John and Jean. Between the two of Hermione's parents, John would have been far more understanding than Jean. Granted, she and Jean had engaged in several conversations on the topic of her relationship with the widow's daughter, and she did seem to be coming around. She still felt betrayed, but Minerva could understand that. At least, she mused, they'd reconciled enough that she and Hermione were expected for dinner tonight, at which point Jean would be confronting her daughter about it.

"Are you ready to go, love?" Minerva asked when Hermione came out of their bedroom. Even though Minerva didn't live at Hogwarts, per say, she was there often enough that Hermione had insisted on calling it 'their room'.

"I think so," Hermione replied. "Any idea what mum wants us over for?"

Minerva sighed. "I do, but your mum expressly forbade me to tell you."

"Oh?" the younger witch said, frowning. "Just please tell me it's not more bad news. I'm not sure I could take it, after…"

"It's nothing like that."

Hermione looked thoughtful. "I've been thinking of telling her… about us."

"Really?" Minerva asked, trying not to let her expression give away how amusing her younger lovers idea was.

"I've been thinking a lot about our relationship, Minerva," Hermione said quietly, wrapping her arms around the taller woman's waist. "About what the future looks like for us. I'm tired of hiding this. I want to be able to love you openly...perhaps even start a family."

Well, she hadn't seen _that_ coming. "Hermione…I…" she took a deep breath. "We're going to be late for dinner. We'll discuss this later, alright? I too have been considering the topic."

Hermione smiled brightly, possibly for the first time since getting the news of her father's death. She planted a firm kiss on Minerva's lips, and then pulled her towards the Floo. The best way to get from Hogwarts to Hermione's childhood home was to floo to the Leaky Cauldron and then apparate from there.

Five minutes later, they were being ushered inside by Jean, who wore a convincing smile, though Minerva could tell that she was bracing herself for this conversation. "Hermione, Minerva, welcome," she said. "Let's go sit down in the living room. Dinner won't be ready for a little while yet.

Minerva took a seat on the couch, and as custom, Hermione say beside her, but with a good sized gap between.

"Alright mum, something is obviously going on," Hermione said. "So, what is it?"

Jean took a deep breath, and Minerva found herself holding her own. "I know that you are seeing Minerva."

Hermione eyes went wide, staring at her mother in surprise. A moment later, she blinked, looked at Minerva incredulously, and then elbowed her older lover in the side, hard.

"Ow!" Minerva exclaimed.

"Thanks for the warning!" Hermione snapped.

"I asked her not to tell you," Jean stated.

Hermione huffed. "Okay mum, let's have it. Lecture away."

Jean took her cue. "Four years, Hermione! You couldn't find a minute in the last FOUR YEARS to tell your father and I you were sleeping with our best friend? Honestly, I'm more upset that you didn't tell us than I am that you two are together. Your father..."

She broke off, choking back tears.

"Mum…"

"He suspected," Jean whispered. "Not how long, but he told me about a year and half ago that he thought that if you weren't together already, you would be...that you two were obviously attracted to each other, and that I needed to be prepared for how that changed things. I didn't believe him."

"Did he…approve?" Hermione asked timidly.

Minerva scooted closer to her lover, and Hermione leaned into her embrace.

Jean sighed. "Yes, he did. He slept on the couch for a week after he told me he did."

Minerva raised her eyebrows, silently thanking John, wherever he was, for voicing his support when he could; for advocating for a relationship he couldn't have been sure even existed.

"I wish he'd told me he suspected," Hermione muttered. "I would have told him the truth, and then told you."

"We never intended to hide our relationship from you, should you begin to suspect," Minerva whispered. "We agreed that when the time came, we would not lie outright."

"Hermione," Jean said. "Does Minerva make you happy?"

"Yes, she does," Hermione answered. "Very happy. I hope that's enough of a reason for you to accept our relationship."

"Almost enough," Jean said. Then she turned to the other woman on the couch. "Minerva, when are you going to make an honest woman out of my daughter?"

The sip of tea that Hermione had just taken flew out of her mouth. "MUM!"

"It's alright, love," Minerva said calmly. "Jean, does that mean I have permission to marry Hermione?"

"I suppose it does," Jean sighed.

Minerva had counted on Jean asking that question. Before she was Hermione's lover, she was Jean's friend, and she knew that the muggle woman was just looking out for her daughter's interests. No matter how old Hermione was, she would always be Jean's little girl.

The older witch took a deep breath, and stood briefly, only to kneel on the floor, facing Hermione with a small box containing a beautiful diamond ring. "Hermione Granger, we are both tired of hiding the love we share from our friends and family. We have had four incredible years together, and I hope many more to come. Will you marry me?"

"Yes!" Hermione squealed instantly. "Yes! Yes! Yes!"

Minerva almost fell over when Hermione lunged forward and captured her lips into a searing kiss.

"Hey!" Jean's voice rang out. "Get a room!"

Hermione pulled back, grinning ear to ear. "Sorry mum."

"It's fine," Jean said, shaking her head with an amused look on her face.

"Mum?"

"Yes, 'Mione?"

"I'm engaged!"

"I noticed," Jean replied with a smirk. "I must admit, that was utterly romantic, Minerva. Well played. But how did you know I was going to ask about your plans for the future?"

"I just know you that well, my friend," Minerva replied.

"Oh?"

"For example, the answer to the question bouncing in your head right now is: _We haven't discussed it, and we'll get back to you on that._" Minerva stated.

Jean's jaw dropped. "How?"

"What was the question?" Hermione asked, looking perplexed.

Minerva leaned over and whispered into Hermione's ear. "She wants to know when she's getting a grandchild."

Hermione blushed furiously. "Right. We need to talk about that I guess."

* * *

**More to come, and soon! Please review! **


	2. Chapter 2

**Okay folks, here's part two! I hope this isn't overly confusing. I tried to make it clear which Hermione and which Minerva was where and when. Enjoy!**

* * *

Hermione McGonagall checked her watch. She had an hour left in her shift, and then she had to meet Minerva at King's Cross to pick up the children. Sevryn, Annabelle, and Malcolm were home from Hogwarts for the summer. In a few months they would be starting their seventh, fifth, and third years respectively. She couldn't believe it had been over twenty years since meeting and falling in love with Minerva. Her only regret in all of it was never getting the chance to tell her father about them before he died.

When Sevryn had started Hogwarts, Hermione had chosen to step down from her post as Transfiguration mistress. She and Minerva had agreed that it was best for the kids to feel free to explore Hogwarts without their mum looking over their shoulders. Hermione had taken a job as an Unspeakable after leaving Hogwarts, and had enjoyed having access to the magical artifacts most people didn't even know about.

She was currently studying an odd sort of mirror thing that Bill Weasley had dug up in Egypt. The hieroglyphics she'd translated had identified this object as "Door of Reflections". What that meant, she didn't know. Deciding to not worry about it for the moment, Hermione turned away from the relic, intent on gathering her things and doing some paperwork before meeting Minerva at the train station.

Unfortunately, she tripped on her own feet, and before she could scream, she had impacted the surprisingly soft surface of the artifact, there was a flash of light, and then…

"Who the hell are you?" a man's voice demanded.

Hermione blinked, looking up to see one of her staff, Beau Travis, pointing his wand at her. "Beau?" she asked, confused.

"How do you know my name?"

"I'm your bloody boss, remember? Hermione McGonagall?" she sputtered.

"I don't know any Hermione McGonagall," Beau said.

Hermione said nothing for a minute. This _was_ Beau Travis, and she _was_ in the Unspeakable Department of the Ministry. If he didn't know her, then she was obviously not in the present, nor the future. She might have considered that she'd gone back in time, but Beau didn't look at all younger. If she hadn't been flung out of time by that blasted device, then the only real alternative was that she'd been thrown into another dimension; one in which she did not and had never worked as an Unspeakable.

"I'm sorry," she said, standing. She'd try to give a legitimate excuse for being here, or in a minute Beau would figure out that she was not supposed to be here, and she'd be detained. She would never get back to Minerva and the kids… "The Minister sent me down here to get you. I'm his new secretary. I must have tripped."

"Oh, well then," Beau said, lowering his wand. "I'll head there straight away. For future reference Miss McGonagall...hey, are you related to the Head of Hogwarts?"

"Not that I am aware of," Hermione answered, internally debating if that meant that Minerva was Head of Hogwarts in this reality, or if it was some other McGonagall currently Headmistress or Headmaster. Perhaps, she mused, in this reality one of Minerva's brothers was living, and had pursued teaching. "And it's _Mrs._ McGonagall, thank you very much."

"Pardon me," Beau said. "Now, as I was saying, for future reference you're supposed to go to the Auror office and floo the Unspeakable Division from there. I'll walk you back up stairs."

"Thank you," Hermione said kindly. Thank god that had worked…

* * *

Meanwhile, back in Hermione McGonagall's dimension, one very annoyed Hermione Weasley was waking up in semi familiar room with a splitting headache. "What the hell?" she muttered.

"Hey, Hermione!" an unfamiliar voice called. "You okay?"

"Fine, I think," she replied. "Not sure how I got here, but…"

"I was just coming down to remind you that you've got to meet the train in half hour," the man said, frowning. "Are you okay to go to King's Cross and pick up your kids, or shall I floo…"

"No, I'm fine," Hermione said. That's right. She'd been on her way to pick Rose and Hugo up. Summer break was here, finally. She missed having her children at home with she and Ron. "I'll head there right away."

The man pointed to a door, and she took her cue. After a few minutes of walking, Hermione concluded that _somehow_ she'd ended up in the Ministry of Magic...probably the Unspeakable Department. But how? And why did that man seem to know her? Adding that to the list of things to figure out later, Hermione exited the Ministry and apparated directly to King's Cross.

"There you are," a familiar voice said.

Hermione looked over to see her former Professor, now Head of Hogwarts, standing there in oddly casual cloths. "Good afternoon, Headmistress," she said politely.

"What?" McGonagall said. "Hermione, love, are you feeling alright?"

Before she could think of an answer, she heard someone else call her name. She turned to see Harry, Ginny, Ron, and...Lavender Brown? What the hell was Lavender doing here?

"Hey 'Mione," Harry said, kissing her on the cheek. "Excited to have the kids home?"

"I certainly am," Minerva said.

"Lav and I are ready for Rose and Luka to be home," Ron said with a soft smile.

_Rose and who?_ Hermione thought incredulously. _He and Lavender?_

"I'm ready for the boys," Ginny said, "but if Lily's attitude hasn't improved, I'm in for a rough summer with my daughter."

"James, Albus, and Luka were wondering if Sevryn and Malcolm want to do a camping trip with Ron and I this summer," Harry said.

McGonagall nodded. "I'm sure our boys would love to. Hermione, don't you think so?"

"We should plan something with Lily, Rose, and Annabeth while they're gone, 'Mione," Ginny suggested. "Think your wife could handle some adventure?"

"As if being married to Hermione isn't an adventure enough, you lot," McGonagall said.

Hermione's face had gone quite pale by this point. She did _not_ belong here. The only thing that made sense was that somehow, she'd been shifted into an alternate reality in which Ron had married that bimbo, Lavender, and she… she was married to her old professor. At least Harry and Ginny seemed to be the same. Oh, dear God...what was she going to do?

Play along, she decided. At least until they were in not such a public place. The last thing she needed to do was make a scene, get arrested, and lose all hope of ever getting back to _her_ Ron, and _her_ children. To hell with all this madness!

"There they are!" McGonagall said, smiling as eight children came bounding off the train and onto Platform nine-and-three-quarters.

Hermione recognized Harry and Ginny's three, and was left to debate which two of the remaining five were Ron and _Lavender's_, and which of the three were she and...Minerva's. God, she best get used to calling her former Professor by her first name, or she'd be found out very quickly.

Her answer came quick enough as a tall, handsome, dark haired boy lunged and scooped her into a tight hug. "Hey mum!" he said, squeezing.

"Mother!" a girl, with brown hair like hers, and high cheekbones and green eyes hugged Minerva tightly. The third child, another dark haired boy, obviously the youngest, stood by looking sulky.

"Malcolm, what's the matter?" Minerva asked.

"Scorpius bloody Malfoy," the boy, Malcolm muttered.

Hermione supposed that meant that she and Minerva's younger son, Malcolm, must be a second year along with Rose and Albus. She thought that the girl..._Annabelle?_ looked to be about James' age, and then the older boy..._Severyn?_ looked to be a year or two older than them. So he was probably coming out of his fifth or sixth year at Hogwarts.

"This time next year, I'm a free agent!" the older boy whooped.

"Graduating from Hogwarts does not make you a _free agent_, Severyn," Minerva scolded. "It makes you a young man who needs to find a job."

Well, that answered that, Hermione thought. He's coming out of his sixth year.

"Can I just skip next year, mum?" the girl looked at her pleadingly. "I don't want to do OWLs."

Alright, that meant that the girl was coming out of fourth year. "I don't think so, sweetheart," Hermione kindly.

"Are you all ready to go home?" Minerva asked.

"Yup!" all three children chorused.

Hermione suddenly realized that they meant to apparate home...wherever that was. She bit her lip, trying to come up with a way to get someone to side-along her. "Severyn, you learned to apparate this term, right?" she asked.

"Yup!" her older son said, grinning.

"Would you like to side-along me?" she asked.

"Yeah!" he said, smile growing wider.

Minerva nodded. "I'll take the other two, and I'll see you on the other side."

Hermione forced a smile, and took hold of the young man beside her. He better not bloody splinch me," she thought, just before a loud popping sound filled her ears.

* * *

Headmistress Minerva McGonagall looked up in surprise as a former student of hers from decades past strode into her office without so much as a _may I come in_. "Mrs. Weasley," she greeted politely. "What can I do for you today? I'm certain that your children got on the train home…"

"Minerva…" the younger witch said. "I am not Hermione Weasley."

"You appear to be," Minerva replied, frowning. "Polyjuice?"

The other woman huffed. "I bloody wish it was that simple. "I am Hermione...just not Weasley. I an an Unspeakable at the Ministry of Magic, and have somehow been transported to another reality in which, of all god awful things, I'm married to Ron Weasley."

"Assuming you are telling the truth," Minerva said calmly, "why on earth have you come to me?"

"Because I trust you above all others, and I'd really rather not be detained by the ministry and never get home to my family," Hermione replied. "I must admit, finding you as Head of Hogwarts is a bit odd...in my reality you never taught here."

"If that is the case, how did we meet in your reality?" Minerva inquired, curious.

Hermione huffed. "I'll tell you if you promise not to toss me out the door."

"Of course I wouldn't toss you out," Minerva said, frowning. "All of my former pupils are welcome here."

"In my reality, you managed your family businesses, and through that, you met and became dear friends with my parents. My mother introduced the two of us the week I was set to move to Hogwarts to begin teaching Transfiguration."

Minerva nodded. "You always were very good at the subject."

"Good to know some things are the same," Hermione nodded. "Anyway, you ended up offering to help me move, as all my friends were unavailable. We spent the day together, and discovered a mutual attraction…"

"WHAT?" the older witch yelped.

"...and we were married four years later," Hermione concluded. "We have three children together. Sevryn, Annabelle, and Malcolm."

"That is...preposterous!" Minerva exclaimed. "I would never become involved with a former student!"

"You promised not to toss me out," the younger witch reminded her gently. "And I was never your student, as you never taught. We met as adults. When mum found out we were seeing each other she about murdered you, but it all worked out in the end."

"Mrs. Weasley!" Minerva protested.

"That's Mrs. McGonagall, thank you very much." Hermione said firmly. "Like it or not Minerva, I am your wife in another reality. All I want is to get back there. I suspect that the Hermione of this reality has been shifted to mine, and if she truly married Ron...gods, I can't believe I would do that in any reality… then I'm sure she is equally anxious to return here."

Minerva pursed her lips, thinking. It wasn't that she didn't find Hermione attractive, she just never would have considered...but, she did suppose that in a reality in which this woman had never been her student, she might have been willing to… "Fine, I will help you...but I will not have you out and about my reality telling anyone else that I...bloody hell… you will stay here at Hogwarts until I can get this sorted."

The younger witch grinned. "I knew you would help me."

"That makes one of us," the Headmistress quipped.

* * *

Minerva McGonagall looked at her wife, perplexed at her jumpy behavior. She seemed uncomfortable to a level Minerva had never before seen. She'd been more at ease when her mum asked how two women could have a baby…

"Hermione, what's wrong?" she whispered, coming up behind the younger woman, who was staring absently out the window.

"I miss mum," Hermione replied.

"Well if that's it, then go bloody visit her," Minerva laughed. Her own parents had died decades ago, as had Hermione's father, but Jean Granger was stick kicking around, the crazy old woman. "The kids will be busy unpacking for a while - go ahead now if you like."

"I think I will," Hermione answered. Before turning to walk out the door, the younger woman offered her older wife a peck on the cheek.

Feeling a need to assure Hermione that she was there for whatever she needed, Minerva pulled Hermione's arm back, and caught her in a searing kiss. There was hesitation for a moment in Hermione's response, and then careful response, and then a moment later and much to her surprise, Hermione was kissing her back with a vigor she hadn't expressed in quite some time.

"Hermione…" Minerva murmured as the younger woman pulled away.

"I...I…" the brunette stuttered. "I'll be back later," she said, dashing out the door.

"What the bloody hell is with her today?" Minerva asked the empty kitchen, touching her tingling lips.

* * *

"Well, I Owled Ron and told him that I, or rather his wife, have had to go out of town for a bit on Ministry order," Hermione stated. "That should cover her for a few days; I will simply have to stay out of sight. I could transfigure to look a bit different if I must go out in public before this whole thing is sorted."

"Very good," Minerva replied. "I'm pleased at how well you're handling this."

"I am an Unspeakable, Minerva," the younger woman replied. "And I learned the art of remaining calm from you."

"Of course," the Headmistress said, obviously still uncomfortable with the notion of their marriage.

It blew Hermione's mind to think that there would be any reality in which she was not with Minerva. They were just so perfect for each other. Was this reality's Hermione actually straight? Was the woman in front of her? "Are you gay, Minerva?" she asked, voicing the last question in her mind.

"Excuse me, but you have no business…"

"I'm your wife in another reality," Hermione interrupted. "So humor me and tell me just how buggered this reality really is."

"Fine," the older witch said tersely. "I am gay."

"Well that's at least somewhat reassuring," the brunette breathed. "Do you have a wife? Children?"

"No, and no," the Headmistress said softly. "Though, I admit that I am curious about the children that...we have...in your reality. Tell me about them?"

"Of course," Hermione smiled. "Sevryn is our older son. He's just coming home for summer break between his sixth and seventh year. He's gifted in Transfiguration and Charms, though favors the later for a career choice after next year. A Gryffindor, of course. I'm afraid he inherited my dislike for brooms, much to your dismay. He does look a lot like you, though."

Minerva smiled coyly, and nodded for the younger witch to continue.

"Our daughter, Annabelle, is the spitting image of me at that age, she's going into her fifth year, and dreading OWLs. She seems to love Potions above all else, including us and her brothers. She does seem to have a bit of crush on Teddy Lupin...and we can't really fault her for wanting to be with someone older, even if the poor boy is smitten by Bill and Fleur's daughter, Victoire."

"Are Remus and Tonks living in your reality?" Minerva inquired of Teddy's parents.

"Tonks is, but Remus was killed in the battle at Hogwarts," Hermione said sadly.

"Remus and Tonks both fell in that battle, in this reality," the older witch confided.

"Oh my," Hermione gasped. "Poor Ted. Who raised him?"

"Andromeda, for the most part, but Harry stepped in as a father figure."

"In my reality, Andromeda died in the battle," Hermione mused. "Tonks told me once that she had intended on going, and her mum went in her place. She's never really forgiven herself for that, though she doesn't let it keep her down. She's always been a great mum to Teddy."

"What about Albus?" Minerva asked. "He died during your sixth year, here."

"He is still Headmaster of Hogwarts," Hermione said. "The old coot. Filius is his Deputy."

"Much like Filius is mine, here."

Hermione nodded. "Is my...do you know if my father is still living here?"

"I think I remember Harry telling me that he died in an accident," Minerva said, frowning. "Gods, must have been...twenty odd years ago."

"In my timeline, he died in a car crash...drunk driver," Hermione replied mournfully. "It was his death that spurred you and I coming out as a couple. We dated in secret for nearly four years."

"It is truly interesting to see the differences between the two realities," the older witch mused. "It makes one really think about how much a difference one choice can make."

* * *

Hermione was reeling over the kiss she'd just shared with her former Professor; the woman who was her wife is this utterly mad reality. She had kissed Minerva on the cheek to help avoid suspicion, and then when Minerva had pulled her back and kissed her on the lips, she decided in the two seconds she had to think on the matter that she really ought to play along and kiss the other woman back. She wanted to think she could trust the woman she knew as Headmistress of Hogwarts, but she seemed so different here, and if Hermione couldn't be sure, she didn't want to risk it.

How much she enjoyed kissing Minerva back had been startling to say the least. It was as if the older woman's lips belonged there; as if they were meant to be hers to kiss. It had been a good minute later that Hermione had suddenly realized that she was married bloody woman and needed to stop, at which point she had taken off and headed to her mum's house. Her mum she could trust. No doubts there. God knew she needed someone to fill her in on exactly who she was here, until she could figure out what the hell had happened and how to get herself home to Ron, Rose, and Hugo.

"Mum?" she called, opening the front door with her key. She had hesitated about just barging in on a woman who was and wasn't her mum at the same time, but decided that she'd rather be inside, behind a closed door, before she confessed what sort of mess she was in.

"Hermione?" she heard her mother call. "In here!"

The brunette walked into the living room, and was startled to see her favorite couch missing. "What did you do with me sofa?" she asked intently.

Jean Granger frowned. "Did you hit your head, sweetheart? That ugly old sofa went with you and Minerva to Hogwarts twenty five years ago."

"Oh," Hermione said in relief. At least it hadn't been thrown away. "Of course, sorry."

"Hermione?" Jean said, rising from her place in the recliner. "What's wrong? I can see it in your eyes, baby."

Hermione took a deep breath. "I don't belong here. Somehow, I'm not sure what happened, but this morning I was transported from my own reality - a reality in which I am married to Ron Weasley, not Minerva bloody McGonagall - to here. I have no idea what to do."

Jean stared for a moment. "What the bloody hell did you marry Ron for?"

"He was my best friend at Hogwarts," Hermione muttered. "Harry had Ginny, and I had Ron. That's just who I ended up marrying."

"Did you never meet Minerva?" Jean asked, still looking perplexed.

"Of course!" Hermione replied. "She's Head of Hogwarts. She was my Transfiguration Professor when I was in school. I've known her for ages...but we never had any sort of personal relationship!"

"Well I introduced you to her in this reality," Jean said. "She was my best friend, who I grudgingly forgave for seducing my daughter after you two gave me my first grandson. Have you seen her since you...switched."

"Yes, I went to King's Cross to pick up Rose and Hugo…"

"Rose and who?"

"My children, with Ron," Hermione explained.

"Ah."

"...and I ended up being greeted by a wife, Ron and Lavender the bloody bimbo, Harry and Ginny, and three children I have never laid eyes on!" Hermione continued.

"Did you go home with Minerva and the kids, or did you come straight over?" Jean asked.

"Home, first. McGonagall noticed someone was up, so I figured I should get out of there. And before I left, she bloody kissed me!"

Jean smiled. "She does like to do that."

"On the lips!"

"Yeah…"

"And I kissed her back!" Hermione shouted, starting to hyperventilate. "I'm married to Ron but I kissed my old Professor, on the lips, WITH TONGUE! And I think I LIKED it!"

Jean sighed. "Sit down, 'Mione. I'll make some tea."

* * *

It was baffling to consider that the woman standing before her, a former student, was her wife in some other reality. More to the point, it was baffling that regardless of the fact that this woman looked like Hermione Weasley, Minerva could tell, by certain dispositions, that she was not in fact one in the same. At least, not entirely. They were mostly alike; this Hermione seemed more sure of herself that the Mrs. Hermione Weasley that Minerva had taught, watched grow into an adult, and then proceeded to be Headmistress to the children of. It begged to question that if she had fallen in love with this woman in another time, in another place, if the Hermione of this dimension was someone she might find equally alluring.

The unsettling answer that Minerva had come to in the last forty eight hours in which she spent most of with Hermione _McGonagall_, was that yes, she did enjoy this woman's company, and find her very attractive. There wasn't a question of why she and Hermione had never gotten together in this reality; that was obviously because they had met as teacher and student. It was a line that she'd never considered crossing. Even after decades of teaching, and becoming friends with many of her former students, there had always remained a professional distance. Hell, even former students like Harry, who was now a friend _and _colleague, still called her 'Professor' most of the time.

"What's on your mind?" Hermione asked.

"Nothing!" Minerva said quickly, trying to hide the blush on her cheeks with the book she was pretending to read.

* * *

Not that Minerva was complaining, but her wife was acting like a cat in heat! After returning from a visit to Jean, Hermione's entire demeanor had shifted from jumpy to...this. What the hell had her mother-in-law said?

"Hermione!" Minerva moaned as Hermione's lips crashed against hers again, hands roaming, attempting with a fair measure of success to undress her older wife. "What has gotten into you?"

"Need to touch you," Hermione muttered.

Minerva's hands moved to undress Hermione without further question, and within a few minutes, both were naked on their bed. "Love…" Minerva moaned as Hermione tenderly suckled her breasts, each in turn.

Kisses were exchanged, bodies explored, and before Minerva knew what was happening, Hermione was sucking on her clit with so much energy that she came almost at once. In some ways, it felt like the first time they were together, all those years ago.

Roles reversed after a little while; a breathless Minerva was now kneeling between her younger wife's legs.

"Oh my god…" Hermione whispered when Minerva began licking her, just the way she liked it. "This is...amazing…"

_Hear, hear_, Minerva thought, continuing what she was doing.

* * *

Hermione watched as Minerva paced her office, amused at all the glances the older witch kept sneaking her way. "You feel it, don't you?" she asked quietly.

"Feel what?" Minerva asked, stopping dead in her tracks, but not turning to look at the younger witch.

Hermione put down her cup of tea and walked up behind her wife...her wife's counterpart. She couldn't stand to see the woman she loved so alone in life, and knew that _her_ Minerva would understand her desire to show the Headmistress that she didn't have to be this way. Slowly, gently, and yet very deliberately, Hermione slid her arms around Minerva's waist from behind, leaning into her back snugly. "The chemistry between us," she whispered into the older woman's ear. "The love."

"Hermione…" Minerva moaned, leaning into the warm embrace. "Please…you are not staying. You're going home to your wife, and the Hermione who belongs in this reality will return to her husband. It doesn't matter if I feel it or not."

"But you do," Hermione stated. It was not a question.

"Yes," she replied, nuzzling the younger woman's cheek.

* * *

Minerva was out doing summer shopping with the children; Hermione had claimed to have some work to take care of, but in reality, she simply needed some time to think. Her mum had concluded that her counterpart was very likely doing what needed to be done in order to return them to their rightful realities, and Hermione was inclined to agree. It's what she would be doing, if she was the one who had initiated this switch, accidental or not. Meanwhile, her mum had also suggested that she 'live in the moment', and explore the life that her alternate counterpart was living.

The more she did that, however, the more confused Hermione became. Last night, she'd had sex with Minerva McGonagall. She had no idea how she was going to look at Ron when she got home, let alone how she could ever face the Headmistress. She wondered if the Hermione of this reality had sought out her wife's counterpart, and how receptive Professor McGonagall might have been to her news that, where _that_ Hermione came from, they were married with three children.

The most troubling part of this whole this was that more time she spent in the company of Minerva, the more she realized how good they could be together. Sex aside, there really was an enormous amount of chemistry between them. Hermione found herself wondering how she had spent the last eighteen years married to Ron, and finding that to be enough. She loved the man, sure, and that was not going to change. The question that was keeping her pacing right now was if the Minerva in her own reality could love her, because she knew beyond any doubt at this point that she could easily fall in love with her former professor.

"What have I done?" she whispered to the empty room.

* * *

"Hermione," Minerva said softly.

The younger witch in question looked up from the book she'd been reading. "Yes?"

"I just got word from my contact at the Ministry. He can get you home this evening," the Headmistress said. "He'd like you to floo over now so he can do a incident report before you leave."

Hermione put down the book with a sigh. "Very well. I guess this is goodbye then."

"Indeed," Minerva said, walking slowly over to the woman she was very quickly falling in love with. "I wish you the best."

The brunette looked intently at her for a moment before speaking again. "Truth or dare, Minerva?" she asked.

Minerva chuckled slightly. "I think I've had enough truth for one week. Dare."

"Kiss me," Hermione said, taking another step toward the older woman.

And Minerva did.

* * *

Minerva watched as her wife interacted with their children. She'd been acting odd over the last week; first very jumpy, then overly affectionate, then distancing herself...and now she was talking to the kids over a picnic in the front lawn, asking them questions as if she didn't know them at all. Minerva resolved to insist that she go to St. Mungo's on Monday if things didn't go back to normal after the weekend. With Sevryn coming up on the start of his final year at Hogwarts, perhaps all of this could be explained away by the early signs of empty nest syndrome.

Later, when they had gone to bed, Hermione snuggled close to her, holding on tightly as if she was afraid of letting go.

"What's wrong, love?" Minerva asked. "I'm worried about you."

"It's nothing," Hermione insisted. "Just adjusting...to the kids being home."

"Are you sure?"

"Just hold me," the younger witch said. "I want to remember this."

A few hours later, a sleeping Minerva didn't notice her Hermione vanishing, nor did she notice a few hours later when her wife crept into the house, undressed quietly, and slipped into bed beside her.

"It's alright, my love. I'm home," came a soft assurance beside her.

* * *

**Alright, one more part to follow which will conclude the story with how the "cannon" Minerva and Hermione come to terms with the feelings they have each developed. While you're waiting for that, PLEASE REVIEW!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Well, here it is. The third and final installment of "The Other Side of the Story". I hope you all enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing this unique story. Thank you all for your support! It means more than you know!**

* * *

"Hermione," Ron's voice said with surprise. "When did you get in , babe?"

Hermione rolled over, groaning. She had 'gotten in' after three in the morning, after being unceremoniously taken from her peaceful slumber next to...Minerva... and then deposited in the nude, in the middle of the same street she'd been taken from when the first switch was made. Thankfully, no one was around, and she had gathered her wits and apparated directly to her front door, entering quickly without bothering to check for onlookers.

"Late," she muttered. "Let me sleep for a few more hours, Ron. It's been a long week."

"About that, where have you been? It's been forever since you took a ministry assignment," Ron asked, sitting up. "What brought that on?"

"It was an assignment for the Unspeakable Department," Hermione lied, quickly putting together that unlike her, the alternate reality Hermione had not taken her place whilst they were switched. "I can't talk about it. As to why I took the assignment..."

She paused, trying to come up with a good excuse that wasn't so far from the truth that she'd forget.

"Yea?" Ron asked.

"It was a favor for the Headmistress," she replied, thinking that would give her a believable story, and an excuse to go see Minerva later today or tomorrow.

"Okay," Ron accepted with a chuckle. "You never could turn down a request from her. I guess, even all these years later, some things never change. Bloody teacher's pet," he teased.

"Ronald, I'm tired." Hermione sighed. "Tell the kids not to make plans this afternoon. I want to spend some time with them now that I'm back."

To be truthful, she just wanted to make sure they were her kids. Rose and Hugo, rather than Lavender's Rose and Luka.

"Hey Ron?" Hermione asked suddenly, realizing she had no idea what had become of her former dorm mate, in this reality.

"Yea, babe?" he asked, starting to get dressed.

"Do you ever hear from Lavender?" she asked.

Ron stopped, and looked at her oddly. "Brown?"

"Yeah, or at least, she was still a Brown last I heard anything of her."

"She is still a Brown. We grab coffee now and then," Ron admitted. "We are just friends, 'Mione...in case you think..."

"Of course I don't think that," Hermione assured him. "I just...well, she crossed my mind recently and I wondered. Is she doing well?"

"Well enough," Ron sighed. "Hard to find a job, let alone a husband in her condition."

"Condition?"

"She was bit by a werewolf during the battle of Hogwarts, hun," Ron said. "I thought you knew that. Anyhow, last we talked she was moping about men who are werewolves are more accepted than women who are, and it's damn near impossible for her to get a date. I don't know why blokes are so blind...I mean, were I a single man... Blimey, 'Mione, I didn't mean that."

Hermione nodded. "You did mean it, and that's okay. I know you're attracted to her. You guys dated back at Hogwarts. I can't say I'm entirely thrilled to know you've been meeting her for coffee without me knowing about it, but I trust you, Ron."

Her husband smiled. "Good. You get some more rest. I'll go tell Rose and Hugo to keep their afternoons clear."

"Thanks Ron," Hermione said softly ,sinking back into her pillow miserably. Maybe Ron had been faithful to her...but she had not been faithful to him, and that was a reality that she now had to face.

* * *

Minerva felt damned. Why had she let herself go? Why had she let herself fall in love with someone so far out of her reach it was laughable? It was summer break, so there really wasn't even much work to distract herself with, as much as she wished there were.

She had been planning to head up to the manor this week, and connect with the gentleman who handled her family's businesses, but she couldn't bring herself to leave her office, let alone the castle. The sofa still smelled like her...like Hermione. The book which the younger woman had left laying on the coffee table before they had kissed goodbye remained untouched. Minerva simply couldn't bare to be away from the lingering presence of the woman she'd fallen in love with in the space of only a few days.

She found herself wondering if the Hermione of this reality would seek her out, after all of this. Had the younger woman she'd known all these years met the wife of Hermione McGonagall? What questions had she asked, knowing how differently their interactions were in that other place?

"Minerva, what's on your mind?" the portrait of Albus Dumbledore inquired. "That pretty wife of yours?"

"She's not my wife," Minerva muttered, sorrowfully. "At least not in this reality."

"But you wish she were?" he asked.

"Even if, and this is a big if, Hermione Weasley has returned from her adventures in the alternate reality and has suddenly come to love me, she is still married to Ronald. She still has a life built which is not easily walked away from. She still has two children who would not take kindly to their mother starting over her life with their former professor." Minerva said. "And those are only the problems one considers when evaluating who she is in the present. There's also accounting for our respective pasts to consider. I was Hermione's teacher. She was my student. That is not a bond easily broken. The alternate Minerva never taught, and she and my own counterpart met as adults. I fear that there is no way to get where I want to go with her."

"With love, my dear," Albus said with a soft smile. "There is always a way."

* * *

"I wondered if you'd come," Minerva said softly as Hermione stepped into her office.

"Headmistress," Hermione gulped. "Good afternoon."

"And to you, Mrs. Weasley," Minerva nodded, gesturing towards a comfortable looking sofa. "I take it this means that you met my counterpart."

"And it would seem that you met mine," the younger witch stated, taking a seat.

"She stayed here whilst we were coordinating with the Unspeakable Department to send her home, and return you to where you belong with your husband and children."

"Is that really where I belong?" Hermione dared to ask.

Minerva sighed. "What happened over there to make you even ask that?"

Hermione fiddled with the hem of her shirt for a few seconds, debating on how to reply. That she fell in love? That she realized how much more fulfilling her life might have been? That in the space of a few days, she's found cause to question everything she'd thought she was? "I met you. The woman behind the stoic Headmistress mask; a wonderful woman named Minerva." she said. "And you? How did you find it, meeting a version of me who was your wife?"

Minerva chuckled. "I was rather shocked, to say the least. But, that said, I found myself very drawn to the woman who had never been my student, and who had never married her friend, Ronald Weasley."

"And now that you have seen," Hermione paused, searching for the right words. "Now that you've seen what we might have been, what do you feel when you look at me?"

Minerva's eyes widened, suddenly realizing that Hermione's line of questioning was not one of natural curiosity like she'd imagined it to be, but rather her questions were laying the groundwork for the hardest question of all. "Hermione," she whispered. "We can't."

The brunette stood and approached the ebony haired witch slowly, keeping steady eye contact. She knew Minerva was scared. She knew how very wrong it was for her to want the older woman like this, but it simply couldn't be helped. Some form of resolution had been needed, and Hermione was well aware that such resolution may very well completely alter her life as she knew it. "Says who?" she asked, reaching out and placing her hands on the older woman's waist.

"Anybody with good sense!" Minerva snapped, trying to pull away.

Hermione didn't let her. She pulled the older witch flush against her own body, tilting her chin up and placing a soft kiss on her former teacher's neck, just below her jaw. "Tell me you don't feel it," Hermione whispered. "And I'll go. Tell me you aren't aching to make love to me, and I'll never bring this up again."

Minerva moaned softly, dipping her head down and burying her nose in Hermione's hair. The younger woman could feel Minerva beginning to return the embrace, hesitantly, and tightened her own in reassurance.

They stood there for a moment, holding each other tightly, before Minerva gently pulled away, letting out a shaking breath. "I can't tell you I don't feel it, Hermione," she said, touching the younger woman's cheek. "And I can't deny that I greatly desire to take you to bed. But, the fact remains that you are a married woman, and I am equally unable to enter into an affair. My counterpart in the other reality was never a teacher, and risked very little when entering into a relationship with a drastically younger woman. I, however, am a teacher. It is my life. While times may have changed enough that people might be accepting to a relationship between us, such a relationship beginning as an adulterous affair would lose any ground that time has gained."

Hermione nodded, understanding where Minerva was coming from, and knowing that there was more she needed to do before things went any further with the woman she had fallen in love with. She needed to divorce Ron. She needed to get Rose and Hugo's needed Harry and Ginny's support, and she needed to reenter the workforce. "I'll be back," she said, pressing a firm kiss on the older woman's cheek. "Wait for me."

With that, she turned and left. Hermione had closed the door behind her and made it halfway down the staircase before Minerva realized what she'd just said. Or rather, what she'd meant.

"I love you too," Minerva whispered to wind, hoping the breeze coming through the open window would carry it to Hermione's ears.

* * *

Minerva fingered her glass of firewhiskey nervously, waiting for Harry Potter to arrive. Over the last twenty something years, the-boy-who-lived had become the-man-she-gladly-called-friend. They were meeting at the Three Broomsticks today because she felt she owed it to him to warn him about the proverbial bomb that Hermione was going to be making. Minerva didn't doubt for a second that the brains of the Golden Trio would be seeking divorce; she'd made her intentions quite plain the evening prior.

"Hey, Minerva," Harry said, breathless as he slid into the booth across her. "Sorry I'm late. Hermione was acting like she wanted to tell me something, but whatever it was, she never did get the nerve to out and say it. Honestly, I'm a bit worried."

And that, right there, was a cue if there ever was one, Minerva thought to herself. "Actually Harry, it's Hermione that I wanted to talk to to you about."

"You called her _Hermione_," Harry said with a frown. "Now I know something is wrong. You still, after all these years, keep with _Mrs. Weasley, _or before that, _Miss Granger._"

"Yes, well," Minerva said softly, looking Harry in the eye. "That was before I fell in love with her."

You could have heard a pin drop. Silence persisted as Harry stared at her, jaw slack and wide eyed. "Bloody fucking hell," he finally breathed out. "How did _that _happen?"

Minerva proceeded to lay out the bare details of what had occurred in the last week. The switched Hermiones, the very different lives each of them led, and the feelings that she had developed as a result. "I can't breath when she touches me, Harry," she muttered. "But when she does, I feel I might die if she lets me go. It's unbearable."

"So...she feels the same for you?" Harry asked tentatively.

"I think so," Minerva nodded. "As of a conversation we had last night, she intends to seek a divorce from Mr. Weasley."

"Oh boy," Harry groaned. "This is...huge. Massive. Have you two...er…?"

"I kissed the other Hermione the evening she left," Minerva admitted with a blush, "but nothing has happened between _our_ Hermione and I."

"Damn," the dark haired wizard said. "I don't know what to say, Minerva. I'm torn between happy that you've finally found someone to capture your heart, and sad to think by two best friends will be ending their marriage."

"I would have expected you to feel nothing else," Minerva replied, "but I wanted you to hear it from me, so you would be prepared. I can't begin to predict how...Ronald will react."

Harry looked thoughtful. "Well, knowing Ron, it will be either very bad, or surprisingly well. He's said to be before that he doesn't feel like he's enough for her...maybe he saw this coming long before any of us did."

"Really? He imagined him wife would leave him for his former Professor?" Minerva asked, laughing a little.

"Well probably not _that_," her friend chuckled. "But her finding someone else."

"I hope he takes it well," Minerva sighed. "For Hermione's sake, and for Rose and Hugo."

"Me too," Harry agreed.

* * *

It had been two days since she'd seen Minerva. Yesterday, Hermione had attempted, and failed miserably, to work of the nerve to warn Harry. Today he was busy working, and she knew she couldn't put off talking to Ron any longer. "Ron," she said, walking into the living room where he was plopped on the couch watching the tele. "We need to talk."

Ron looked up, and concern quickly etched into his face. "What's wrong?" he asked, switching of the program he'd been watching.

"I want a divorce," she said quietly.

His eyes grew wide in shock. "What? Why?"

"I...I lied to you when I told you I'd been on assignment from the Ministry," she said slowly.

"Alright," he said. "So where where you, really?"

"In a rather strange twist of fate, myself and a version of myself from an alternate reality switched places for a week," she began to explain. "She spent her visit here with the Headmistress at Hogwarts, while I stayed with her family."

"So, what? An alternate me, Rose, and Hugo?" Ron asked, scratching his head, trying to puzzle out how any of this would lead to her wanting a divorce."

"In that reality, you and I never married," Hermione continued. "Rather, you were married to Lavender Brown…"

"Ah, so _that's_ why you were asking about her." Ron suddenly realized.

"...and I was married to Minerva McGonagall," she finished, ignoring his remark.

"WHAT?" he exclaimed. "That barking mad!"

"I thought so too, at first," Hermione agreed.

"At first?" Ron asked, frowning. "Are you saying that you went to an alternate reality and found out that you were married to your old teacher, and now you've come back and decided that means we shouldn't be married any more?"

"I fell in love with her, Ron," she whispered. "I kissed her. I had sex with her. If the choice had been mine, I would have stayed with her."

Ron just stared at her for a moment, trying to wrap his head around everything. "But you came back," he protested after a while. "So you can't have her, right?"

"Her, specifically, no," Hermione admitted. "And I'm sure that she was quite glad to have _her_ Hermione, the one with whom she has built a life, back in her arms. However, the Minerva McGonagall of this reality is not attached to anyone, and while the alternate version of me was with her, she too fell in love."

Red hair flopped around as her husband shook his head, almost as if he was trying to wake up from some disturbing dream. "So...she fell in love with alternate you, and you fell in love with alternate her, so now you want to leave me so that you guys can see about being together - to see if the love extends to this reality?"

"That's it, in essence," Hermione admitted. "I realize how cruel this may seem, but I swear to you Ron, I would not be asking this of you if I didn't think it was in all of our best interests. Having met the version of you who married Lavender, I admit that I was a bit jealous of how good you two were together…"

"So you're thinking if we split, I should pursue her, here?" Ron asked, curious.

"If you wanted...obviously I'm not going to have any say in how you live your life from now on," Hermione shrugged. "Except regarding Rose and Hugo, of course."

"Did me and Lavender have kids?" Ron asked.

"Yes. Rather than us having Rose and Hugo, the two of you had Rose and Luka," Hermione said with a soft smile. "If you want to go over to George's, I'm sure he'd let us use his Pensive, and I could show you my memory of them."

Ron laughed. "I think I'll just leave that one be. What's the fun of being a single guy again if you take away all the mystery?"

"As you wish," she smiled.

* * *

Minerva's quiet breakfast in the Great Hall with the rest of the Hogwarts staff who were still here for the summer holiday was interrupted by Poppy's screech of displeasure the minute she opened the Daily Prophet.

"What is it?" Minerva asked worriedly, mind immediately drifting to the days proceeding Voldemort's rise, when horrid murders covered the front page of the news on a weekly basis.

"Ron and Hermione Weasley are getting a divorce!" Polly exclaimed.

Minerva couldn't help it. She smiled. "Is that so?" she inquired politely.

"Minerva," Poppy said with a disapproving frown. "What do you know about this?"

"You already knew it was coming, didn't you?" Filius said, joining the conversation.

"Perhaps," the Headmistress said quietly.

Some hours later, she was not in the least surprised when her Deputy made his way up to her office. "I can only think of one logical reason why you would be aware of the marital affairs of the Weasleys," he said by way of greeting, "and I'm feeling a need to brace myself for what you're about to tell me."

"Through a series of very odd events, Hermione and myself have fallen in love," she said, very matter-of-fact. She never felt the need to beat around the bush with her intelligent and long time friend.

"So she requested a divorce so you can be together," Filius concluded, "and had already indicated her intention to do so."

"More or less."

"So how long have you…" the blushing half-goblin asked.

"It's not like that all," Minerva said hurriedly, understanding now that he presumed there was a long standing love affair between she and Hermione. "In short, we each recently met alternate reality versions of ourselves, who had been happily married for many years. That event was a catalyst to addressing the potential of a relationship between us, and we each believe that is worth exploring. Nothing as happened between us at all."

"That's a massive leap of faith on each of your parts," Filius said after a moment. "Particularly for her."

"That goes to show how strongly we each feel," Minerva replied. "On that note, should Hermione and I decide to pursue a relationship, and that relationship causes, shall we call them _waves_, which are non conducive to my role as Headmistress, I should like to be prepared to retire, versus being asked to step down. The Headship, of course, would fall to you in that case. I would like you to get the paperwork prepared for that transition, so that if the need arises, it's only a matter of signing a few things."

"Very well," Filius said quietly. "Though it is not what I want."

"I know, my friend," Minerva said. "But for once in my life, I need to be selfish and follow my heart."

* * *

Hermione looked carefully at her children's faces. Rose, always the child more like Ron, sat there looking glum and suspicious. Hugo, on the other side, was more like her, and simply looked curious as to what her explanation for the divorce was going to be.

"Through a series of events I cannot explain to you at this time, I became aware that in an alternate reality, I was married to someone other than your father. That caused me to seek out the person whom was my spouse in said alternate reality, here, and they have romantic feelings towards me, and I towards them."

"So you're leaving dad for someone else?" Rose asked, slowly.

"To have the freedom to explore that possibility," Hermione clarified. "Your father does not deserve to be cheated on, and I cannot promise him, or you, that the draw between myself and this other person would be something I could fight. It's...too strong."

"Who's this _other person_?" Hugo inquired. "Who is so bloody special that you can't keep our hands off her?"

"HER?" Rose exclaimed. "WHAT?"

Hugo shrugged. "If it were another man mum wouldn't have used neutral pronouns."

"Well spotted, Hugo," Hermione mumbled. So much for easing her way into this…

"Okay, so who is _she_?" Rose asked, obviously bitter bite in her tone.

"Minerva McGonagall," Hermione stated, trying not to sound irritated.

It was Hugo's turn to look surprised. Even she she and Ron had first told the kids they would be getting a divorce, Hugo had not seemed all that shocked. Upset, sure, but not shocked like his sister had been. "As-as in…" he stuttered. "Th-the _Headmistress_?"

"The very same," Hermione whispered. "I understand if this is difficult for you two to accept, I am asking that you try. She really is a wonderful woman, whom I care for greatly."

"Sure, mum," Hugo said, shaking his head. "We'll make an effort. Right, Rose?"

"Yea, sure," Rose said, eyes rolling. "Just no snogging your girlfriend around students. I'd rather not be the laughing stock of Hogwarts next term, if you don't mind."

"That's a more than fair request," Hermione agreed, smiling softly.

* * *

"Hello," Minerva said in surprise as Hermione, once again Granger, walked into her office.

"I'm a single woman again," Hermione said with a wry grin. "Thought you'd like to know."

"I was already aware," the older witch admitted. "Page two of the Prophet yesterday, much to Poppy's dismay."

"I hadn't known she thought so highly of Ron and I as a couple," the brunette mused, taking a few strides toward Minerva.

"I think it was less about her opinion of you as a couple, and more about her opinion regarding how marriage should be for life," Minerva replied, reaching out and taking the younger woman's outstretched hand.

"So you know I'd gone forward with the divorce, and you didn't Owl?" Hermione asked, looking confused.

"There's more to ending a marriage and starting one's life over than the paperwork, my dear," Minerva explained. "Especially when there are children and extended family to consider. I felt that you needed some space."

"Fair enough," Hermione sighed. "It's been a trying week. I still need to tell my mother. Gods, she is going to kill me."

"According to your alternate self, I had a very good relationship with your mother, there," Minerva said thoughtfully. "Would you like me to go with you?"

"I'll think about it," Hermione nodded. "There certainly could be pros to you being there, but there are also cons to consider."

"Alright," Minerva said, stroking the younger witch's cheek lovingly. "Just let me know if there's anything I can do to help. When all of that is done, we'll talk about the rest."

"Us, you mean?"

"Yes. What that means, and such."

"What do you want it to mean, Minerva?"

The older woman looked down at expectant brown eyes staring up at her. "This," she whispered, leaning in to capture Hermione's lips.

Hermione accepted the kiss, a gentle and loving gesture, and returned it in equal measure. It wasn't passion filled, but rather the embodiment of intimacy; nothing more, and nothing less.

"Humm," the younger woman sighed as the kiss broke a minute later. "That was lovely."

"A taste of the future," Minerva murmured, holding the smaller body in a tight embrace.

* * *

Hermione Granger laughed merrily. She was having tea with her mother, recounting some stories from their respective youth, trying to guess what might have been had they each made different choices. The forty year old witch had just gotten through her divorce from Ron Weasley, and was excited to start her new job as an Unspeakable at the Ministry this coming Monday. That said, she had a few more days before she started, and still needed to finish moving her things to her new flat.

"So, Hermione," Jean Granger said to her daughter. "Tell me about Minerva."

The younger woman stared at her mother in shock. She had gotten through telling her mum about divorcing Ron, and that had been all. She had yet to mention an interest in anyone, let alone that someone being a woman, let alone that woman being the very same one Jean had met forty years prior when she came to deliver Hermione's Hogwarts letter. "How…?" was all she managed to stutter.

"I know everything," Jean said with a soft smile. "about the trip to the alternate reality, I mean. The other you came by the house to talk to me while she was here, and told me all about her marriage to Minerva, who in her reality, had been a friend of mine and your father's. If there was one thing I loved most about your dad, it was his impeccable judgment of character. If he liked her, in any reality, I expect she is wonderful."

"She is," Hermione sighed, smiling. "Absolutely wonderful. She actually offered to come with me today...I could call and have her join us if you like."

"By 'call', I assume you mean that trick you do with the talking animal made of smoke," Jean sighed.

"Yes, mum," the brown eyed woman laughed, mirth filling her eyes. "A patronus, as I've told you a dozen times."

"Well, send your _patronus_ to Minerva and I'll go get more tea and ginger biscuits," Jean said, standing. "If what the other Hermione said is anything to go on, I'll be getting a new grandchild before too long, so I figure I ought to get to know this woman, pronto."

"Mum!" Hermione exclaimed. "We've hardly had a chance to talk about what we each want out of a relationship. We've only kissed at this point! And I'm bit old to be starting a whole new family, anyhow."

"Pish, posh," Jean said, walking away.

Hermione sent a patronus to Minerva, and a moment later, the older witch indicated she would be there shortly. By the time Jean had reset the tea try, the Hogwart's Headmistress had arrived and come inside. Hermione was pleased that her older paramour had thought to take a moment to change into muggle clothing.

"Well, Minerva," Jean said when they had all taken seats. "Tell me about yourself. I have a feeling we're going to be good friends."

* * *

Making love to Hermione for the first time was more than just a meeting of two bodies. Much more. Minerva could feel her heart breaking every time Hermione pulled away from a kiss, even if it was only for a moment to breath. The need that consumed her now was almost enough to make her cry. "Please," she whispered as the younger witch's body melted on top of hers.

How the hell had she made it this far in life without feeling _this_. Why people called an orgasm _completion _now made total sense. Here, now, with Hermione in her arms, Minerva McGonagall felt complete for the first time in her life.

"Min…" Hermione breathed as the older woman rolled, and then deftly inserted two fingers into her core. "Oh, god, Min…"

Drawing on years as a Transfiguration Mistress, Minerva used a combination of spells to elongate and enlarge the girth of her clitoris. Erect and glistening, Minerva removed her hand and repositioned her body, and then thrust her hips forward slowly. Her length slid easily into her lover's body, overwhelming Minerva with sensation. "Sweet Merlin," she uttered with a shaky breath. "You feel so good."

Hermione met her following thrusts with eagerness, pace quickening as each began nearing orgasm. "Ohhh…" the younger witch moaned. "My love…"

Minerva could feel Hermione tightening around her, and a few seconds later, the two found release in the ultimate union of souls. Both spent, the older woman fell limply to the side, and after taking a moment to cast a non verbal counterspell, she scooted tightly against Hermione's smaller form.

"I love you," she whispered into Hermione's ear. "Gods above Hermione, I love you so much."

"And I love you," the younger woman replied, leaning into Minerva's tight embrace.

As the two began to drift off to sleep, Minerva's hand rested lightly on Hermione's stomach. Instinct took over, as she unknowingly reached protectively over the tiny life beginning to form. In another reality, a different Minerva was remembering the first time she had cast the spell to change her anatomy, on she and her Hermione's wedding night, unknowing that it would mean the conception of their son, Sevryn.

Granted, making love was designed to create new life; the living symbol of the purest form of affection.

* * *

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